Yom Kippur with Dov Katz. Pure Awesome.



I had a very well thought out plan for this Yom Kippur. I was going to stay inside for 25 hours straight. It was a heat wave in Israel, well above 90 degrees, I fast pretty terribly so the air conditioning was cranked way up and we were ready to go. I spent a small fortune on puzzles, found boxes of toys that the boys hadn’t discovered yet and set up my mini-indoor haven for the kids. With Yael and Yoni at shul, Eitan and Nani with friends, I spent a great deal of time with Dov Katz.

Dov was in rare form. Wearing the only pair of 3T shorts (read: short and tight) I hadn’t left behind in Cleveland, an undershirt that was two sizes too small he looked like a small dancer (what show made young children dance awkwardly… Star Search?) badly clothed. He had a Yom Kippur play date, I told him ever children’s story I could remember (Goldilocks! Three Little Pigs! Little Red Riding Hood!). I told him and Nani stories from when they were little. Anything I could do to get through the day.

At 7 o’clock Dov was DONE (stick a fork in me done). He put on a Shabbat shirt (a polo on backwards…hilarious) and was desperate to go to shul. I hadn’t passed out in 24 hours so I figured I could walk to shul and back. Only thing: no crocs. No where to be found. The only shoes he would put on were his leather Spiderman shoes with two HUGE flashing lights on EACH shoe that announced him to the world with every step he took.

I was feeling slightly pious on Yom Kippur. I crammed all my davening into one or two super long davening sessions where I just Al Chetted the heck out of myself. So imagine my piety as my son walks with me at dusk into shul, in his leather shoes, his too-tight shorts and his NEON LIGHTS screaming our transgressions. God loves us. He truly does.


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